by Sky Winters
Afterward, Rory held her close to him, her head resting against his shoulder as they spent their first night together in a shared bed. She knew that lying together like this was wrong in her former world, but in this new one, it felt perfectly fine. It was this world in which she chose to live her life and Rory she chose to share it with. As she drifted off to sleep in his arms, everything suddenly felt right with the world.
The following morning, she emerged from the cave to find some of the other members of the village smiling sheepishly at her and scurrying along. She supposed they would get used to the idea that she would be in Rory’s cave rather than her hut from now on. There didn’t seem to be anything critical in their gazes, so at least she wasn’t feeling as if she was being shunned as some sort of common tart.
“So, how was he?” a young woman named Heather asked her as they sat washing clothes in the river later a few days later.
“Excuse me?” Anna asked.
“Rory. How is he in the sack?’ the woman said with a smile.
“Heather!” another one named Sonja asked. “Mind your own business, girl!”
“Like you don’t want to know too,” Heather retorted, turning her attention back to Anna.
“Why would you ask such a thing?” Anna said, blushing.
“Because you are the only woman he has taken in the whole time he has been in this place. There is no one else to ask,” Heather told her.
“What? No. I can’t be the only one,” Anna replied.
“No. It is true. You are,” Sonja replied.
“Why? There are so many attractive women here and I’ve seen the way some of them look at him,” Anna replied.
“Because he doesn’t look at them the way he has looked at you since the day you got here,” Heather replied.
“He was wonderful,” Anna told them. “That is all you’ll ever get from me.”
“Ahhhhh,” Heather sighed in resignation.
A commotion behind them caused them to all jump up, leaving the clothing they were washing behind in the river. Anna ran toward the racket, grabbing the sword she had taken the knight before from just inside the door of her hut as she went. Just beyond that, she found herself face to face with her brother.
“Well, how the mighty have fallen,” he spat at her. “Dressed in ragged clothing and whoring around with a bunch of Highlander scum.”
“It was stupid for you to come here alone, Marcus” she replied.
“Who says I’m alone?” he said, looking toward the surrounding trees. Anna could see the hooves of horses beneath the tree line and felt a sense of dread. She turned as she heard footsteps behind her. Rory was walking toward her, his own broadsword in hand.
“Will you be coming down here to face me as a man, Marcus? Or will you sitting atop your horse and letting your knights do your dirty work for you again?” Rory asked him.
“Well, look who we have here. If it isn’t one of few surviving members of the Clan McKordia. I haven’t seen you since we were kids, Rory,” Marcus replied.
“We used to be good friends, sneaking out to the moors to play together. Too bad you decided to become a greedy tyrant instead of a great King. I see you are still pushing your sister around, as well,” he said.
Anna looked at Rory for a moment, a distant memory playing in the back of her mind. It was of herself and Marcus out in the moors together. He had been angry that she followed him there and had pushed her down, causing her knee to strike a rock. There was still a scar where it had left a gash. The same scar Rory had run his fingers across lovingly just last night. He wasn’t admiring it. He was remembering it!
“You! You were there that day. Marcus pushed me and I cut my knee. Then, he went crazy and tried to strangle me. You came from nowhere and pulled him off of me, punched him in the nose and sent him home bleeding and crying to my father,” she said.
“Yes,” Rory replied, still keeping his eyes on Marcus.
“You stopped the bleeding and told me I would be okay, then walked me as close to the castle as you dared go without being seen,” she said.
“That was the last day I ever saw you or your brother until I saw you on the cliffs. I recognized you immediately,” he told her.
“Well, this little trip down memory lane is very special, but I have come here to conduct business,” Marcus interjected.
“What kind of business?” Rory asked in a menacing tone.
“Well, as you can see, there are knights surrounding your entire village,” he said. “I have come here to propose that you give me my sister and this land.”
“And let’s just say we were even willing to do that. What do we get in return for this exchange?” Rory asked.
“Simple. You get to live instead of dying in your beds like the majority of your family did the last time you weren’t smart enough to stay out of my way,” Marcus said.
“Well, I’m afraid that is just not really an offer we would be interested in,” Rory replied.
“Then you leave us no choice but to take it by force,” Marcus replied, raising his hand upward to signal his knights to move in. Anna watched as they marched out of the bushes toward them. Rory appeared unmoved as he stood beside her still facing Marcus.
“Your sister is right, Marcus. It was stupid for you to have come here,” Rory told him.
“You are quite cocky for a man who is overrun by the King’s knights,” Marcus retorted.
“Am I, Marcus? You might want to look again,” Rory replied with a smile.
Anna could see the brief look of uncertainty in Marcus’s eyes as he glanced toward the lines of knights now standing inside the treeline. Though they were still on their horses, they were covered in blood, slashes evident in their chain mail as they slumped against the horses’ necks. From what Anna could see, not the first one was still breathing. Bears stood behind many of the horses, waiting for Rory’s instruction. Anna looked back at Marcus, noting that he now no longer looked uncertain. Now, he looked clearly frightened.
“Killing a King’s knight is an offense punishable by death. You and yours will hang for this, Rory. That includes you, little sister,” he spat toward Anna.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Rory told him as the bears closed ranks and surrounded his horse. Marcus turned quickly, attempting to escape but they were quickly upon him, pulling him from the horse and sending it off into the woods. He stood in the middle of them looking around fearfully.
“Anna, what would you have done with him?’ Rory asked.
“Marcus, it seems the tables have turned. It is now I who has dominion over your fate,” Anna told him.
“Please, Murdina,” he begged.
“Murdina no longer exists. She was forced out of her home for her own safety and taken in by a group of Highland rebels who have shown her more love and compassion than her own brother. My name is Anna. I will not be returning to the throne, but neither will you, dear brother,” she told him.
“You can’t kill me. I’m your brother!” he replied.
“I’ve no intention of killing you, Marcus. I think you should spend years contemplating the harm you have done to people who looked up to our family and trusted that we would do the honorable thing for them. I suspect your remaining days in the prison tower with some of the people you sent there for little or no reason might be just what you need,” she told him.
“You can’t send me there! I am the King!” he shouted at her.
“I can and I will. When I tell our cousins what you have done, they will support me and you will be dethroned and punished,” she said.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he scoffed.
“You should be,” she replied.
“You heard her, secure him and we’ll take him back to the castle,” Rory said, turning toward some of the men that had gathered behind him.
Anna’s heart raced. There was some part of her that still loved her brother, but she knew there would never be peace for herself or anyone as long as he was allowed h
is freedom. She was lost in thought when someone suddenly snatched her sword from her hand. It all happened so fast that she barely had time to register what was going on. Her brother was on his knees, the sword driven squarely through his heart.
“That . . . was for my husband, you miserable little man!” the Widow O’Connor shrieked.
Marcus fell to the ground and she pulled her sword free, wiping it on her apron as she walked slowly back toward Anna and handed it to her. Anna looked at her, wild eyed with disbelief. Where had she even come from?
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Widow O’Connor told her before walking back toward the small hut her husband had built the day before Marcus caught him out hunting on land he deemed his and had him beheaded.
Rory and Anna stood looking at one another as the bears surrounding Marcus shifted back into the men they had been before. Two of them picked up Marcus and asked what to do with him.
“We can’t go hauling a dead King into town, even with his sister in tow,” Rory told her.
“Toss him over the cliff. It’s where he would have had me go if Rory hadn’t intervened. I’ll take care of things from there,” Anna said solemnly.
The following day, she and Rory rode into the kingdom alone. She explained to her cousins that Marcus had taken a nasty spill and gone over a cliff.
“You are next in line for the throne, Murdina,” her cousin Edward told her.
“I don’t want it,” she told him. “You are next after me. I want you to tell people that I have died in the accident with my brother and take the throne. You will be a good king. Rory and I will stay the night here and be gone in the morning for you to make your announcement,” she told him.
“You can’t just give up the throne,” Edward chastised.
“I can and I am. I would like to get some of my things that I wasn’t afforded the opportunity to take when I left here and you will never see me again,” she replied.
“If you are certain that you wish things to be that way, then it is what will be done,” he told her. “Just know that if you ever need anything, you can come to me. The world may think you are dead, but I will know you are not.”
“I appreciate that, Edward. However, I don’t think I will ever need anything from this place ever again. I have all I need right here,” she said, looping her arm through Rory’s. On the way back to the Highlander’s camp, she asked him the question that she had been wanting to for some time.
“Why did you not tell me that you were the boy that saved me from Marcus all those years ago?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t think you would remember me as I remembered you,” he said.
“I did remember you. You’ve just changed so much. That boy seemed so timid and shy,” she replied.
“A lot of time has gone by since then. The harsh realities have a way of changing a person,” he replied.
“I suppose so,” she replied, knowing that she too had changed quite a bit since her parents had died and she had seen so much cruelty. Rory surprised her by pulling the wagon over and turning toward her.
“I want to marry you, Anna. Will you marry me?” he asked.
“Yes! Yes, I will. Can we do it today?” she asked.
“If that is what you want,” he replied.
“It is exactly what I want,” she beamed.
“Then you will be my bride by the end of the day,” he replied, putting the wagon back into motion.
Later that afternoon, they were married in a ceremony performed by Duncan, who just happened to be an ordained minister. The entire village surrounded them and cheered for them as they were joined as man and wife. Anna caught sight of the Widow O’Connor beaming radiantly and looking happier than she had ever seen her. Apparently, vengeance does do the soul some good.
Six months later, Anna stood by the river talking with the women who were washing clothes as they handed them to her to hang on the makeshift clothes line that ran between two trees. Ordinarily, she would be helping them, but it was hard getting down to the water in her current condition. She smiled as she saw Rory approaching her with a broad smile. He put his hand upon her growing bely and spoke to their unborn child softly.
“We’re going to have a great life, my son,” he replied.
“How do you know it is a son?” Anna laughed.
“Because this world can only stand one beauty as great as yours, my love,” he told her with a kiss on the cheek.
THE END
Clan of the Dragon
The small carriage rattled through the darkness. It had been light when her journey had begun, but as the long miles distanced her from home, the grey of the late afternoon cast a shadow over her heart and was soon followed by the blackness of night.
Only that morning she had been kissing goodbye to her aunt and uncle outside the old stone walls of Glennick castle, her home for the last 16 years. She had never known her mother and father; they had died when she was two years old. The circumstances had never really been explained, questions on the subject hadn’t been encouraged and so she hadn’t asked. Although, she was often haunted by dreams of them surrounded by a fiery light.
The thought of home added an extra weight to her heart. She was tired but could not sleep. The constant bumping and swaying of the carriage did not help, but the journey played heavy on her heart. Lord Edmond McConnel was the reason for her travel, her final destination, her fate.
Lady Davina could bring no blame to the door of her aunt and uncle, her legal guardians. They had been kind to her growing up, but even they could not shield her from the brutal facts of life.
Over the years their lands had dwindled, some taken by force during the wars, some sold to make ends meet until there was nothing left to sell. The last few years had been hard, her aunt had been taken ill and nearly died; the castle walls were crumbling around them and another bad winter could prove to be much for the old place, having fallen into disrepair and part ruin over the last few decades.
Fortunes had been lost, and there was little else of any value left, except for Lady Davina; the last hope of the McDougall clan.
Lord Edmond had the reputation of being a brutish man, a cold and heartless fellow with little time for compassion or love. Yet he had wanted Lady Davina the moment he had set his eyes upon her. For a man with such an ugly soul he craved beautiful possessions around him, to fill the black void of his heart. He waged war for lands and property, stole and ravaged the wealth of the neighbouring clans for all they possessed. He wanted Lady Davina and nothing would get in his way. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and he would own her. With the might of his men he could have easily taken her by force, but he did not want to seem an utter brute in her eyes, not until after they were married anyway.
He had promised the aunt and uncle funds to restore their castle. Once they were dead he would claim the property as his own, so there would be no loss to his purse.
She had accepted willingly, there had been little choice, no other alternative open to her. Her aunt and uncle would not survive another winter.
Lady Davina peered out through the small carriage window and out onto the bleakness of the countryside. The moon picked out the shapes of tree’s and hedges, ghoulish in the wintry white glow and she shivered inwardly. Only her face reflected back through the glass, a pale and wide eyed young girl, lost in the bleakness of the night.
She had never been so afraid of anything before in her life and the feeling left her helpless; half sick with apprehension.
There were lights ahead and soon the grey high walls of Castle McConnel came into view. Her hand was shaking and she breathed deeply several times to calm herself before the door of the carriage was finally opened. A footman approached to help her down the steps and to the castle doors.
A line of servants graced the entrance, shivering in the bitter air to welcome their new mistress, all eyes keen to catch sight of their master’s bride to be.
Lady Davina felt her heart in her m
outh as she approached the line of grim faced employee’s. Life was hard at the castle and the people that worked here had not much to smile about. She tried to meet their eyes with kindness and warmth, but there was none in return, only cold stares and something almost akin to hatred; something she had never known in her short and sheltered life.
She was marrying the master, and they assumed therefore that she too must be like him; cold, cruel and heartless.
The focus of attention soon shifted to the great oak door at the top of the steps as it suddenly swung open into the night. Two large mastiff dogs leapt down the steps and disappeared into the darkness, closely followed by a loud and bellowing roar; a noise almost beast like in its tone.
The line of servants visibly shuddered as Lord Edmond McConnel appeared like a demon in the night, raging at the top of the steps. The candles from inside the hall lit his backdrop like the fiery hue of hell itself.
His figure was tall and dark against the doorway, yet he swayed visibly as he shouted something incomprehensible into the night. He was clearly drunk and in a state of anger as he waved his arms aggressively against the small crowd of people gathered outside.
“What do you think you are doing out here, get inside and bring me more wine.”
The men looked at each other until one of the older men stepped forward tentatively to speak.
“Sir, your bride to be has just arrived, the Lady Davina is here. We came out to greet her as instructed.”
For a moment Lord Edmond stood silently, looking at his man with a fixed concentration whilst taking the words slowly into his brain. His hand swept back the thick, black hair that had flopped across his forehead before spinning around to face the young girl, now cowering behind him.